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UC-NRLF 


*B    311    Ell 


LVCRETIVS 


ON 


LIFE  AND  DEATH 


V.  H.MALLOCK 


LUCRETIUS  ON  LIFE  AND  DEATH 


LUCRETIUS 


ON 


LIFE   AND    DEATH 

IN  THE  METRE  OF  OMAR  KHAYYAM 

TO  WHICH  ARE  APPENDED  PARALLEL  PASSAGES 
FROM  THE  ORIGINAL 


BY 


W.  H.  MALLOCK 


SECOND  EDITION 


NEW   YORK 
JOHN    LANE   COMPANY 

MCMX 


First  Edition,  Demy  Svo,  published  May  1900 

Reissued  in  Crown  87/0,  October  1901 

Second  Edition,  Crown  Svo,  March  1910 


S^Sfc^K-fccA  w<V  ^UO^ 


PA  £4*3 


PREFACE 

Few  philosophical  poems  in  the  English  language  have 
been  more  widely  read  than  the  poem  in  which  the 
genius  of  FitzGerald  has  introduced  us  to  that  of  the 
Persian,  Omar  Khayyam.  More  critics  than  one  have 
remarked  on  the  curious  likeness  between  the  philosophy 
of  Omar  and  that  of  the  Roman,  Lucretius,  who  also, 
like  the  Persian,  expressed  his  philosophy  in  verse. 
The  difference,  however,  between  the  two  is  not  less 
curious  than  the  likeness  ;  and  it  occurred  to  me  that 
it  would  be  a  not  uninteresting  experiment  to  render 
parts  of  Lucretius  into  the  stanza  employed  by  Omar — 
or  rather  the  English  equivalent  with  which  FitzGerald 
has  made  us  familiar — in  order  that,  by  thus  reducing 


M70101 


vi  LUCRETIUS 

them  to  a  common  literary  denominator,  a  comparison 
between  them  might  be  more  readily  made. 

The  philosophy  of  Lucretius,  however,  has,  like  that 
of  Omar,  an  interest  for  us  in  the  present  day  which  is 
far  more  than  literary.  Like  Omar,  he  deals  with  that 
precise  train  of  reflection  which  scientific  knowledge,  as 
distinct  from  the  assumptions  of  faith,  tends  to  rouse  in 
the  minds  of  all  who  think  ;  and  the  intellectual  position 
of  Lucretius  was,  in  many  ways,  even  nearer  than  Omar's 
to  that  of  the  modern  world.  Lucretius  was,  so  far 
as  the  knowledge  of  his  time  would  allow  him  to  be,  as 
completely  and  as  consciously  a  scientific  man  and  a 
physicist  as  Darwin,  or  Huxley,  or  any  of  our  con- 
temporary evolutionists.  Indeed  his  doctrines,  allowing 
for  certain  inevitable  differences,  are  astonishingly 
similar  to  theirs  ;  and  his  general  conception  of  the 
conclusions  to  which  all  science  is  tending  may  be  said 
to  be  absolutely  identical.     He  disclaimed  the  character 


PREFACE  vii 

of  an  original  thinker  or  discoverer,  representing  himself 
merely  as  a  disciple  of  his  great  master,  Epicurus  ;  but 
he  made  the  philosophy  of  his  master  altogether  his 
own,  and  as  such  we  may  here  speak  of  it. 

His  main  object  as  a  physicist  was  to  show,  by 
physical  reasoning,  that  life  and  matter  are  parts  of  the 
same  order  of  things,  and  that  the  soul  of  man  results 
from  the  same  general  process  as  that  which  results  in 
all  other  sensible  phenomena — in  the  body  of  man,  in 
the  flowers,  the  seas,  the  mountains,  in  the  whole  frame 
of  the  earth,  and  in  all  the  suns  and  stars.  Earth  and 
the  system  to  which  it  belongs  he  regarded  as  but  an 
infinitesimal  portion  of  a  universe  of  similar  systems 
which  are  scattered  through  endless  space,  and  have 
always  been  forming  themselves,  persisting,  and  then 
again  decomposing,  for  all  time — if  that  can  be  called 
time  which  is  endless.  The  whole  of  this  limitless 
universe,  "  which  decomposes  but  to  recompose,"  con- 


vitf  LUCRETIUS 

sists,  he  maintained,  of  atoms  aggregated  in  various 
forms  ;  and  beyond  space,  and  atoms,  and  the  laws  in 
accordance  with  which  the  atoms  act,  nothing  exists,  has 
existed,  or  ever  can  exist ;  consciousness,  life,  soul, 
whether  in  man  or  animals,  being  merely  an  atomic 
tissue  of  an  exceptionally  subtle  kind. 

The  worlds,  and  in  particular  the  earth  and  all  the 
things  belonging  to  it,  have  come  to  be  what  they 
are  by  a  process  of  natural  selection.  The  atoms 
throughout  infinite  time  make  an  infinite  variety  of 
combinations ;  but  those  alone  have  persisted  which 
were  fit  to  persist,  the  others  resolving  presently  into 
their  component  parts.  Animals  and  men  are  the 
result  of  the  same  process.  .  They  represent  the  forms 
of  life  that  alone  have  been  fit  to  live,  out  of  innumer- 
able forms  that  have  appeared,  and  have  perished 
because  they  have  been  not  fit.  Man's  senses  were 
not    designed    for    him    in    order    that    he    might    put 


PREFACE  ix 

them  to  their  uses  ;  but  because  he  has  them,  and  can 
use  them,  and  can  maintain  his  life  in  consequence, 
the  human  race  remains. 

The  methods  by  which  Lucretius  endeavours  to 
support  these  conclusions  are  essentially  the  same  as 
those  of  the  modern  physicist.  He  endeavours  to 
support  them  by  reasoning  from  the  known  and  the 
observable  to  the  unknown.  He  takes  the  most 
familiar  phenomena  of  nature,  and  of  daily  and  domestic 
life — such  as  the  smell  of  a  lamp  when  extinguished, 
the  dancing  of  motes  in  a  sunbeam,  the  appearance  of 
maggots  in  carrion — and  seeks  to  show  that  all  the 
mysteries  of  the  cosmos  are  explicable  by  reference  to 
a  sequence  of  such  cause  and  effect  as  every  day  we 
can  verify  by  the  evidence  of  our  own  senses.  The 
narrow  limits  of  his  knowledge  prevented  him  from 
imparting  to  his  system  anything  which  resembles  the 
actuality  of  modern   science.     In  advancing  from  the 


x  LUCRETIUS 

known  to  the  unknown,  the  scientific  thinker  of  to-day 
plants  each  successive  footstep  on  some  discovery  of 
what  actually  is — testing  his  discoveries  by  a  series  of 
minute  experiments.  Lucretius,  as  soon  as  he  passed 
beyond  the  region  of  ordinary  observation,  had  to  content 
himself  with  what,  reasoning  by  rude  analogy,  ordinary 
observation  suggested  to  him  as  things  that  might  be. 

In  its  details,  therefore,  his  science  is  not  science  at 
all ;  as  the  reader,  who  cares  to  do  so,  may  very  easily 
see  by  studying  his  highly  curious  and  fantastic  theory  of 
vision.  But  though  in  its  details  his  doctrine  has  little 
more  reality  than  a  dream,  it  approaches,  in  its  premises, 
the  latest  theories  of  to-day  ;  and  its  practical  conclusion, 
so  far  as  human  life  is  concerned,  is  identical  with  that 
of  the  latest  scientific  philosophy.  This  conclusion  is 
that  all  conscious  life  comes  into  existence  with  the  body, 
and  disappears  with  its  dissolution  ;  that  it  is  not  the 
miraculous  creation  of  any  deity,  or  deities  ;  and  that 


PREFACE  xi 

if  any  deities  exist,  they  emerge  from  the  nature  of 
things,  just  as  man  does,  and  have  no  concern  with  his 
actions.  It  is  doubtful  whether  Lucretius  believed  in 
their  existence  at  all.  In  any  case  he  regarded  them  as 
an  essentially  negligible  quantity  ;  and  even  should  they 
be  aware  of  man's  existence  whilst  he  lived,  man,  death 
being  the  end  of  him,  passes  wholly  beyond  their  ken. 
There  is  no  knowledge  in  the  grave.  There  is  no  other 
life  but  this.  Such  was  the  sum  and  substance  of  the 
message  of  Lucretius  to  his  contemporaries. 

This  is  a  doctrine  which,  willingly  or  unwillingly, 
many  philosophers  have  taught  besides  Lucretius.  But 
other  philosophers  have,  as  a  rule,  taught  it  either  as  a 
doctrine  of  sadness  and  despair,  or  as  an  inducement 
to  voluptuous  licence.  Omar  presents  it  to  us  as 
both.  He  is  alternately  possessed  by  the  tragedy  of 
the  inevitable  end,  and  by  the  desire  to  wring  from 
existence  every  pleasure  that  it  can  yield  us,  before  the 


xii  LUCRETIUS 

night  comes,  in  which  no  more  pleasure  can  be  taken. 
But  Lucretius  addresses  his  hearers  in  a  very  different 
tone.     Omar's  advice  to  man — 

Drink,  for  we  know  not  whence  we  came,  nor  why  ; 
Drink,  for  we  know  not  why  we  go,  nor  where, 

is  rejected  by  him  as  a  piece  of  ignorant  folly  which 
defeats  its  own  ends.  The  only  true  pleasures,  he 
teaches,  are  found  not  in  excess  but  in  moderation  ; 
and  though  even  these  are  not  perhaps  very  great,  they 
are  better  than  anything  we  can  gain  for  ourselves  by 
the  excitement  and  agitation  of  excess. 

He  differs,  however,  from  Omar  in  a  deeper  way 
than  this,  and  from  other  philosophers  also  who  are 
adherents  of  the  same  creed.  To  them  the  extinction  of 
life  seems  in  itself  a  sad  thing.  Lucretius  proclaims  it 
as  a  blessing,  a  relief,  an  emancipation.  That  man 
has  no  other  life  is  the  crowning  truth  of  science. 
It   is  the  truth    for  the    sake    of  proving  which — of 


PREFACE  xiii 

placing  it  beyond  all  doubt — the  science  of  the  nature 
of  things  is  alone  worth  studying. 

The  reason  which  he  gives  us  for  this  attitude  of 
mind  is  interesting,  and  throws  a  remarkable  light  on 
the  spiritual  conditions  of  his  day.  Life,  according  to 
him,  would  be  naturally  tolerable  enough,  and  very 
often  happy,  if  it  were  not  for  one  thing ;  and  this  is 
the  universal  dread,  not  of  death  itself,  but  of  the 
destiny  that  awaits  us  after  death.  Mankind  at  large, 
he  says,  labours  under  the  horrible  belief,  which  is 
always  in  the  background  of  their  minds,  that  they  are 
born  under  the  wrath  of  God,  or  of  the  gods,  and  that 
these  monstrous  powers  have  called  them  into  life  only 
in  order  that,  after  death,  they  may  torment  them  in 
hell  for  ever.  Here  is  really  the  root  of  all  human 
sadness.  It  is  the  fear  of  what  the  gods  will  do  to  us 
— those  all-seeing  angry  masters,  vile  in  their  vindictive 
righteousness,  gathering  where  they  have  not  strawed. 


xiv  LUCRETIUS 

Let  us  once,  says  Lucretius,  rid  ourselves  of  this 
nightmare  of  the  imagination,  and  the  aching  of 
our  hearts  will  cease.  We  shall  rise  up  and  be 
free. 

Science  it  is  which  accomplishes  for  us  the  great 
deliverance  ;  and  it  does  so  by  demonstrating  these  two 
cardinal  truths — first,  that  no  god,  or  gods,  of  the  kind 
in  question,  exist ;  and  secondly,  that  even  if  they  did 
exist,  they  would  be  absolutely  impotent  to  wreak  their 
malice  on  us  after  death,  because  after  death  there  will 
be  nothing  left  of  us  for  them  to  torture. 

It  is  the  latter  of  these  considerations  on  which  he 
dwells  most  persistently,  and  in  which  he  appears  to 
find  his  well  of  deepest  comfort ;  and  for  this  there  is 
the  following  reason.  In  spite  of  his  doctrine  that 
life,  if  bodily  pain  and  a  fear  of  the  gods  be  absent, 
is  naturally  pleasing  rather  than  otherwise,  he  is  haunted 
by  a  conviction  that  there  is  an  inherent  bitterness  in  it 


PREFACE  xv 

after  all.     Though  the  delights  of  love  may  seem  to 

be  never  so  satisfying,  yet 

A  bitter  something  in  the  midmost  hours 

Of  joy  starts  up  and  stings  amongst  the  flowers. 

And  again,  after  he  has  triumphantly  announced  the 
completeness  with  which  "  immortal  death "  relieves 
mortal  man  from  the  fear  of  future  suffering,  he 
proceeds  to  argue  that  seated  in  man's  very  self  is 
some  source  of  restlessness,  discontent,  and  sorrow,  by 
which  life  is  still  vitiated,  even  though  all  fear  of  hell 
and  of  the  anger  of  the  gods  be  done  away  with.  Self, 
he  says,  is  the  secret  malady  of  each  of  us — for  ever  un- 
satisfied, for  ever  ill  at  ease  ;  and  death  alone  can  free 
us  from  this  foe  that  is  of  our  own  household. 

In  admitting  and  insisting  on  this  fact  Lucretius 
is  not  perhaps  quite  consistent  as  a  thinker  ;  but  the 
feelings  of  few  men  are  entirely  in  accordance  with 
their  thoughts,  and  the  union  in  the  poet  of  a  note  of 


xvi  LUCRETIUS 

subdued  pessimism  with  one  of  courageous  though 
hardly  enthusiastic  optimism  affects  the  mind  more 
deeply  than  either  could  have  done  separately. 

The  following  poem,  though  a  considerable  number 
of  the  stanzas  closely  follow  the  sentences,  and  some 
even  the  very  words  of  the  original,  can  hardly  be 
called  a  translation  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  the 
word.  The  work  of  Lucretius  comprises  between  seven 
and  eight  thousand  lines  ;  the  following  poem  comprises 
not  so  many  as  five  hundred.  Of  the  work  of  Lucretius, 
by  far  the  larger  part  consists  of  what  is  not  so  much 
poetry  as  scientific  expositions  in  verse.  Its  poetry  is 
confined  to  various  exquisite  illustrations  taken  from 
scenes  and  aspects  of  external  nature,  and  to  the 
moral  teaching  which  the  poet  draws  from  his  natural 
science.  His  purely  scientific  principles  I  have  contented 
myself  with  merely  indicating,  and  it  is  his  moral  teach- 
ing which  I  have  mainly  attempted  to  reproduce.     This 


PREFACE  xvii 

is  scattered  throughout  his  work  in  a  variety  of  isolated 
passages ;  as  a  consequence  of  which  he  very  often 
repeats  himself,  and  does  but  imperfect  justice  to  the 
continuity  of  his  thoughts  and  sentiments.  I  have  done 
my  best  to  exhibit  them  in  a  continuous  form  ;  and, 
in  choosing  the  passages  on  which  the  following  poem 
is  founded,  I  have  disregarded  altogether  their  original 
order,  taking  them  from  this  place  and  from  that,  as 
seemed  most  suitable  for  my  purpose. 

There  are  very  few  of  the  stanzas  which  have  not 
some  equivalent  in  the  original ;  but  most  of  them 
are  summings  up  of  the  tendency  of  the  thought  of 
Lucretius,  or  echoes  of  his  feelings,  rather  than  repro- 
ductions of  his  words.  In  order  that  the  reader  may 
form  some  judgment  as  to  this  point  for  himself,  I  have 
appended  to  the  poem  those  lines  of  the  original  which 
have  been  more  or  less  closely  translated,  together  with 
others    representative    of    the    meaning   and    train    of 


xviii  LUCRETIUS 

argument  which  the  poem  aims  at  reproducing.  The 
Latin  lines  are  translated  in  literal  prose  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  are  not  classical  scholars. 

In  one  or  two  stanzas  I  have  made  use  of  phrases 
taken  from  great  writers  which  are  household  words 
with  all.  One  of  these  is  from  Tennyson,  two  from 
Shakespeare,  and  two  or  three  from  the  Bible.  For 
doing  this  I  have  the  precedent  of  Lucretius  himself, 
who  lays  Ennius  under  the  same  kind  of  contribution. 
In  the  two  former  cases  my  object  has  been  to  convey 
to  the  reader  a  sense  of  the  vital  identity  of  modern 
thought  with  ancient,  and  in  the  latter  to  convey 
to  him  a  sense  of  the  strange  contrast  between  the 
gospel  of  science,  which,  in  the  days  of  Lucretius,  as  in 
our  own,  had  no  hope  to  offer  us  but  that  of  eternal 
death,  and  the  gospel  of  the  Christian  religion,  which 
offers  us  eternal  life. 

This  contrast  is  made  additionally  interesting  by  the 


PREFACE  xix 

fact  that  Lucretius  died. only  fifty  years  before  Christ  was 
born.  In  Christ  originated  that  great  spiritual  and  in- 
tellectual movement  which  succeeded,  for  so  many  ages, 
in  rendering  the  Lucretian  philosophy  at  once  useless 
and  incredible  to  the  progressive  races  of  mankind ;  but 
now,  after  a  lapse  of  nearly  two  thousand  years,  the 
conditions  which  evoked  that  philosophy  are  once  more 
reappearing.  Once  more  we  are  confronted  with  two 
solutions  of  life — that  which  takes  as  its  basis  some 
creative  act  of  faith,  and  that  which  is  based  solely  on 
the  observation  of  such  phenomena  as  are  apprehended 
by  the  senses,  can  be  expressed  in  rigorous  formulas,  or 
leave  behind  them  objective  records  of  their  occurrence. 
But  though  these  old  conditions  are  being  revived,  they 
are  being  revived  with  great  differences.  Religion  as 
represented  by  Christianity  is  by  no  means  the  same 
thing  as  the  religion  which  excited  the  contempt  and 
indignation  of  Lucretius.      The  Christian  religion,  in 


xx  LUCRETIUS 

spite  of  the  Christian  Hell,  offers  to  mankind  not  a  future 
of  torment  only,  but  a  future  of  rest  and  peace,  which 
possibly  even  Lucretius  might  have  regarded  as  prefer- 
able, if  true,  to  that  which  he  anticipated  in  the  grave. 
Religion  as  represented  by  Christianity  is  no  longer 
the  enemy  of  man.  It  is  man's  friend  and  comforter  ; 
but  it  is  a  friend  whose  credentials  seem  to  many  to 
have  become  doubtful.  Science,  on  the  other  hand,  has 
triumphantly  extended  its  dominions.  It  has  demon- 
strated, with  an  accuracy  beyond  the  dreams  of  Lucretius, 
the  all-pervading  presence  of  uniform  and  endless  laws. 
It  has  traced  the  steps  by  which  mind  slowly  develops 
itself  out  of  matter.  If  it  has  not  shown  us  that  con- 
sciousness is  a  mere  function  of  the  brain,  it  has  shown 
us  that  without  the  brain,  we  can,  even  if  it  exists,  have 
no  knowledge  of  it,  and  that  without  the  senses  it 
could  have  no  thinkable  content  ;  and  has  strengthened 
the  argument  that,  if  the  evidence  of  faith  is  repudiated, 


PREFACE  xxi 

the  dissolution  of  the  individual  body  and  the  individual 
life  are  simultaneous.  The  result  is  that  the  choice 
between  religion  and  science  has  become  in  the  present 
day  even  more  vital  to  man,  and  fraught  with  deeper 
issues,  than  it  was  in  the  days  when  Lucretius  wrote  his 
poem  on  "  The  Nature  of  Things,' '  and  preached  his 
gospel  of  a  redemption,  not  from  the  grave,  but  in  it. 
Those,  however,  who,  under  changed  conditions,  are 
adherents  of  the  principles  which  he  shares  with  the 
latest  scientists  of  to-day,  can  hardly  find  the  only  hope 
which  is  open  to  them  expressed  by  any  writer  with  a 
loftier  and  more  poignant  dignity  than  that  with  which 
they  will  find  it  expressed  by  the  Roman  disciple  of 
Epicurus. 


LUCRETIUS   ON   LIFE  AND   DEATH 

IN  THE  METRE  OF  OMAR  KHAYYAM 

I 

Suave  mart  magno 
I 

XX^HEN  storms  blow  loud,  'tis  sweet  to  watch  at  ease 
From  shore,  the  sailor  labouring  with  the  seas  : 
Because  the  sense,  not  that  such  pains  are  his, 
But  that  they  are  not  ours,  must  always  please. 

ii 

Sweet  for  the  cragsman,  from  some  high  retreat 
Watching  the  plains  below  where  legions  meet, 
To  await  the  moment  when  the  walls  of  war 
Thunder  and  clash  together.     But  more  sweet, 


2  LUCRETIUS 

in 

Sweeter  by  far  on  Wisdom's  rampired  height 
To  pace  serene  the  porches  of  the  light, 

And  thence  look  down — down  on  the  purblind  herd 
Seeking  and  never  finding  in  the  night 

IV 

The  road  to  peace — the  peace  that  all  might  hold, 
But  yet  is  missed  by  young  men  and  by  old, 
Lost  in  the  strife  for  palaces  and  powers, 
The  axes,  and  the  lictors,  and  the  gold. 

v 
Oh  sightless  eyes  !     Oh  hands  that  toil  in  vain  ! 
Not  such  your  needs.     Your  nature's  needs  are  twain, 

And  only  twain  :  and  these  are  to  be  free — 
Your  minds  from  terror,  and  your  bones  from  pain. 


ON   LIFE   AND  DEATH  3 

VI 

Unailing  limbs,  a  calm  unanxious  breast — 
Grant  Nature  these,  and  she  will  do  the  rest. 

Nature  will  bring  you,  be  you  rich  or  poor, 
Perhaps  not  much — at  all  events  her  best. 

VII 

What  though  no  statued  youths  from  wall  and  wall 
Strew  light  along  your  midnight  festival, 

With  golden  hands,  nor  beams  from  Lebanon 
Keep  the  lyre's  languor  lingering  through  the  hall, 

VIII 

Yours  is  the  table  'neath  the  high-whispering  trees ; 
Yours  is  the  lyre  of  leaf  and  stream  and  breeze. 
The  golden  flagon,  and  the  echoing  dome — 
Lapped  in  the  Spring,  what  care  you  then  for  these  ? 


4  LUCRETIUS 

IX 

Sleep  is  no  sweeter  on  the  ivory  bed 

Than  yours  on  moss  ;  and  fever's  shafts  are  sped 

As  clean  through  silks  damasked  for  dreaming  kings, 
As  through  the  hood  that  wraps  the  poor  man's  head. 

x 

What  then,  if  all  the  prince's  glittering  store 
Yields  to  his  body  not  one  sense  the  more, 

Nor  any  ache  or  fever  of  them  all 
Is  barred  out  by  bronze  gates  or  janitor — 

XI 

What  shall  the  palace,  what  the  proud  domain 
Do  for  the  mind — vain  splendours  of  the  vain  ? 
How  shall  these  minister  to  a  mind  diseased, 
Or  raze  one  written  trouble  from  the  brain  ? 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH 

XII 

Unless  you  think  that  conscience  with  its  stings 
And  misery,  fears  the  outward  pomp  of  things — 

Fears  to  push  swords  and  sentinels  aside, 
And  sit  the  assessor  of  the  kings  of  kings. 

XIII 

The  mind  !     Ay — there's  the  rub.     The  root  is  there 
Of  that  one  malady  which  all  men  share. 

It  gleams  between  the  haggard  lids  of  joy  ; 
It  burns  a  canker  in  the  heart  of  care. 

XIV 

Within  the  gold  bowl,  when  the  feast  is  set, 
It  lurks.     'Tis  bitter  in  the  labourer's  sweat. 

Feed  thou  the  starving,  and  thou  bring'st  it  back — 
Back  to  the  starving,  who  alone  forget. 


6  LUCRETIUS 

xv 

Oh  you  who  under  silken  curtains  lie, 
And  you  whose  only  roof-tree  is  the  sky, 

What  is  the  curse  that  blights  your  lives  alike  ? 
Not  that  you  hate  to  live,  but  fear  to  die. 

XVI 

Fear  is  the  poison.     Wheresoe'er  you  go, 
Out  of  the  skies  above,  the  clods  below, 

The  sense  thrills  through  you  of  some  pitiless  Power 
Who  scowls  at  once  your  father  and  your  foe  ; 

xvn 
Who  lets  his  children  wander  at  their  whim, 
Choosing  their  road,  as  though  not  bound  by  him : 

But  all  their  life  is  rounded  with  a  shade, 
And  every  road  goes  down  behind  the  rim  ; 


ON   LIFE   AND  DEATH  7 

XVIII 

And  there  behind  the  rim,  the  swift,  the  lame, 
At  different  paces,  but  their  end  the  same, 
Into  the  dark  shall  one  by  one  go  down, 
Where  the  great  furnace  shakes  its  hair  of  flame. 

xix 

Oh  ye  who  cringe  and  cower  before  the  throne 
Of  him  whose  heart  is  fire,  whose  hands  are  stone, 
Who  shall  deliver  you  from  this  death  in  life — 
Strike  off  your  chains,  and  make  your  souls  your  own  ? 


II 

E  tenebris  tantis 


(^OME  unto  me  all  ye  that  labour.     Ye 

Whose  souls  are  heavy-laden,  come  to  me, 
And  I  will  lead  you  forth  by  streams  that  heal, 
And  feed  you  with  the  truth  that  sets  men  free. 


ii 

Not  from  myself,  poor  souls  with  fear  foredone, 
Not  from  myself  I  have  it,  but  from  one 

At  whose  approach  the  lamps  of  all  the  wise 
Fade  and  go  out  like  stars  before  the  sun. 


LUCRETIUS   ON   LIFE   AND  DEATH 

in 
I  am  the  messenger  of  one  that  saith 
His  saving  sentence  through  my  humbler  breath  : 

And  would  you  know  his  gospel's  name,  'tis  this- 
The  healing  gospel  of  the  eternal  death. 

IV 

A  teacher  he,  the  latchet  of  whose  shoe 
I  am  not  worthy  stooping  to  undo  : 

And  on  your  aching  brows  and  weary  eyes 
His  saving  sentence  shall  descend  like  dew. 


For  this  is  he  that  dared  the  almighty  foe, 
Looked  up,  and  struck  the  Olympian  blow  for  blow, 
And  dragged  the  phantom  from  his  fancied  skies — 
The  Samian  Sage — the  first  of  those  that  know. 


io  LUCRETIUS 

VI 

Him  not  the  splintered  lightnings,  nor  the  roll 
Of  thunders  daunted.     Undismayed,  his  soul 

Rose,  and  outsoared  the  thunder,  plumbed  the  abyss, 
And  scanned  the  wheeling  worlds  from  pole  to  pole ; 

VII 

And  from  the  abyss  brought  back  for  you  and  me 
The  secret  that  alone  can  set  men  free. 

He  showed  us  how  the  worlds  and  worlds  began, 
And  what  things  can,  and  what  things  cannot  be. 

VIII 

And  as  I  hear  his  clarion,  I — I  too 

See  earth  and  heaven  laid  open  to  my  view  ; 

And  lo,  from  earth  and  heaven  the  curse  is  gone, 
And  all  the  things  that  are,  are  born  anew. 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  n 

IX 

Vision  divine  !     Far  off  in  crystal  air, 
What  forms  are  these  ?     The  immortal  Gods  are  there. 
Ay — but  what   Gods  ?     Not   those    that   trembling 
men 
Would  bribe  with  offerings,  and  appease  with  prayer. 

x 

Far  off  they  lie,  where  storm-winds  never  blow, 
Nor  ever  storm-cloud  moves  across  the  glow  ; 

Nor  frost  of  winter  nips  them,  nor  their  limbs 
Feel  the  white  fluttering  of  one  plume  of  snow. 

XI 

At  ease  they  dream,  and  make  perpetual  cheer 
Far  off.     From  them  we  nothing  have  to  fear, 

Nothing  to  hope.     How  should  the  calm  ones  hate  ? 
The  tearless  know  the  meaning  of  a  tear  ? 


12  LUCRETIUS 

XII 

We  leave,  we  bless  them,  in  their  homes  on  high. 
No  atheist  is  my  master,  he,  nor  I  : 

But  when  I  turn,  and  seek  the  stain  of  Hell 
Which  flames  and  smokes  along  the  nadir  sky, 

XIII 

Even  as  I  gaze  the  ancient  shapes  of  ill 
Flicker  and  fade.     From  off  the  accursed  hill 

The  huge  stone  melts.     The  Ixionian  wheel 
Rests,  and  the  barkings  of  the  hound  are  still. 

XIV 

The  damned  forbear  to  shriek,  their  wounds  to  bleed, 
The  fires  to  torture,  and  the  worm  to  feed  ; 

And  stars  are  glittering  through  the  rift,  where  once 
The  stream  went  wailing  'twixt  its  leagues  of  reed  ; 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  13 

xv 
And  all  the  pageant  goes  ;  whilst  I,  with  awe, 
See  in  its  place  the  things  my  master  saw  ; 

See  in  its  place  the  three  eternal  things — 
The  only  three — atoms  and  space  and  law. 

XVI 

Hearken,  oh  earth  !     Hearken,  oh  heavens  bereft 
Of  your  old  gods,  these  ageless  Fates  are  left, 
Who  are  at  once  the  makers  and  the  made, 
Who  are  at  once  the  weavers  and  the  weft. 

XVII 

All  things  but  these  arise  and  fail  and  fall, 

From  flowers  to  stars — the  great  things  and  the  small  ; 

Whilst  the  great  Sum  of  all  things  rests  the  same, 
The  all-creating,  all-devouring  All. 


i4        LUCRETIUS   ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH 

XVIII 

Oh  you  who  with  me,  in  my  master's  car, 
Up  from  the  dens  of  faith  have  risen  afar, 
Do  not  you  see  at  last  on  yonder  height 
A  light  that  burns  and  beacons  like  a  star  ? 

XIX 

Do  not  you  sniff  the  morning  in  our  flight  ? 
The  air  turns  cool,  the  dusk  team  turns  to  white. 

Night's  coursers  catch  the  morning  on  their  manes 
The  dews  are  on  the  pasterns  of  the  night. 

xx 

At  last  we  are  near  the  secret,  oh  my  friend. 
Patience  awhile  !     We  soon  shall  reach  the  end — 

The  gospel  of  the  everlasting  death. 
Incline  your  ear  to  reason,  and  attend. 


Ill 


Sic  igitur  magni  quoque  circum  moenia  tnundi 
Expugnata  dabunt  labem  putresque  ruinas. 


^fO  single  thing  abides  ;  but  all  things  flow. 

Fragment  to  fragment  clings — the  things  thus  grow 
Until  we  know  and  name  them.     By  degrees 
They  melt,  and  are  no  more  the  things  we  know. 

n 
Globed  from  the  atoms  falling  slow  or  swift 
I  see  the  suns,  I  see  the  systems  lift 

Their  forms  ;  and  even  the  systems  and  the  suns 
Shall  go  back  slowly  to  the  eternal  drift. 


1 6  LUCRETIUS 

in 
Thou  too,  oh  earth — thine  empires,  lands,  and  seas — 
Least,  with  thy  stars,  of  all  the  galaxies, 

Globed  from  the  drift  like  these,  like  these  thou  too 
Shalt  go.     Thou  art  going,  hour  by  hour,  like  these. 

IV 

Nothing  abides.     Thy  seas  in  delicate  haze 

Go  off ;  those  mooned  sands  forsake  their  place  ; 

And  where  they  are,  shall  other  seas  in  turn 
Mow  with  their  scythes  of  whiteness  other  bays. 

v 

Lo,  how  the  terraced  towers,  and  monstrous  round 
Of  league-long  ramparts  rise  from  out  the  ground, 
With  gardens  in  the  clouds.     Then  all  is  gone, 
And  Babylon  is  a  memory  and  a  mound. 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  17 

vi 

Observe  this  dew-drenched  rose  of  Tyrian  grain — 
A  rose  to-day.     But  you  will  ask  in  vain 
To-morrow  what  it  is  ;  and  yesterday 
It  was  the  dust,  the  sunshine  and  the  rain. 

VII 

This  bowl  of  milk,  the  pitch  on  yonder  jar, 

Are  strange  and  far-bound  travellers  come  from  far. 

This  is  a  snow-flake  that  was  once  a  flame — 
The  flame  was  once  the  fragment  of  a  star. 

VIII 

Round,  angular,  soft,  brittle,  dry,  cold,  warm, 
Things  are  their  qualities  :  things  are  their  form— 

And  these  in  combination,  even  as  bees, 
Not  singly  but  combined,  make  up  the  swarm  : 


i 8  LUCRETIUS 

IX 

And  when  the  qualities  like  bees  on  wing, 
Having  a  moment  clustered,  cease  to  cling, 

As  the  thing  dies  without  its  qualities, 
So  die  the  qualities  without  the  thing. 

x 

Where  is  the  coolness  when  no  cool  winds  blow  ? 
Where  is  the  music  when  the  lute  lies  low  ? 
Are  not  the  redness  and  the  red  rose  one, 
And  the  snow's  whiteness  one  thing  with  the  snow  ? 

XI 

Even  so,  now  mark  me,  here  we  reach  the  goal 
Of  Science,  and  in  little  have  the  whole — 

Even  as  the  redness  and  the  rose  are  one, 
So  with  the  body  one  thing  is  the  soul. 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  19 

XII 

For,  as  our  limbs  and  organs  all  unite 

To  make  our  sum  of  suffering  and  delight, 

And,  without  eyes  and  ears  and  touch  and  tongue, 
Were  no  such  things  as  taste  and  sound  and  sight, 

XIII 

So  without  these  we  all  in  vain  shall  try 
To  find  the  thing  that  gives  them  unity — 

The  thing  to  which  each    whispers,  "  Thou    art 
thou"— 
The  soul  which  answers  each,  "  And  I  am  I." 

XIV 

What !  shall  the  dateless  worlds  in  dust  be  blown 
Back  to  the  unremembered  and  unknown, 

And  this  frail  Thou — this  flame  of  yesterday — 
Burn  on,  forlorn,  immortal,  and  alone  ? 


ao  LUCRETIUS 

xv 

Did  Nature,  in  the  nurseries  of  the  night 
Tend  it  for  this — Nature  whose  heedless  might, 

Casts,  like  some  shipwrecked  sailor,  the  poor  babe, 
Naked  and  bleating  on  the  shores  of  light  ? 

XVI 

What  is  it  there  ?     A  cry  is  all  it  is. 
It  knows  not  if  its  limbs  be  yours  or  his. 

Less  than  that  cry  the  babe  was  yesterday. 
The  man  to-morrow  shall  be  less  than  this. 

XVII 

Tissue  by  tissue  to  a  soul  he  grows, 

As  leaf  by  leaf  the  rose  becomes  the  rose. 

Tissue  from  tissue  rots  ;  and,  as  the  Sun 
Goes  from  the  bubbles  when  they  burst,  he  goes. 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  21 

XVIII 

Ah,  mark  those  pearls  of  Sunrise  !     Fast  and  free 
Upon  the  waves  they  are  dancing.     Souls  shall  be 

Things  that  outlast  their  bodies,  when  each  spark 
Outlasts  its  wave,  each  wave  outlasts  the  sea. 

XIX 

The  seeds  that  once  were  we  take  flight  and  fly, 
Winnowed  to  earth,  or  whirled  along  the  sky, 

Not  lost  but  disunited.     Life  lives  on. 
It  is  the  lives,  the  lives,  the  lives,  that  die. 

xx 

They  go  beyond  recapture  and  recall, 
Lost  in  the  all-indissoluble  All : — 

Gone  like  the  rainbow  from  the  fountain's  foam, 
Gone  like  the  spindrift  shuddering  down  the  squall. 


22        LUCRETIUS   ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH 

XXI 

Flakes  of  the  water,  on  the  waters  cease ! 
Soul  of  the  body,  melt  and  sleep  like  these. 

Atoms  to  atoms — weariness  to  rest — 
Ashes  to  ashes — hopes  and  fears  to  peace  ! 

XXII 

Oh  Science,  lift  aloud  thy  voice  that  stills 
The  pulse  of  fear,  and  through  the  conscience  thrills — 
Thrills  through  the  conscience  with   the  news  of 
peace — 
How  beautiful  thy  feet  are  on  the  hills ! 


IV 

Nil  igitur  mors  est 

I 
r\EATH  is  for  us,  then,  nothing — a  mere  name 
For  the  mere  noiseless  ending  of  a  flame. 
It  hurts  us  not,  for  there  is  nothing  left 
To  hurt :  and  as  of  old,  when  Carthage  came 

ii 

To  battle,  we  and  ours  felt  nought  at  all, 
Nor  quailed  to  see  city  and  farm  and  stall 

Flare  into  dust,  and  all  our  homeless  fields 
Trampled  beneath  the  hordes  of  Hannibal, 


LUCRETIUS 

in 
But  slumbered  on  and  on,  nor  cared  a  jot, 
Deaf  to  the  stress  and  tumult,  though  the  lot 

Of  things  was  doubtful,  to  which  lords  should  fall 
The  rule  of  all — but  we,  we  heeded  not — 

IV 

So  when  that  wedlock  of  the  flesh  and  mind 
Which  makes  us  what  we  are,  shall  cease  to  bind, 
And    mind   and    flesh,  being   mind  and  flesh   no 
more, 
Powdered  to  dust  go  whistling  down  the  wind, 

v 
Even  as  our  past  was  shall  our  future  be. 
Others  may  start  and  tremble,  but  not  we, 

Though  heaven  with  the  disbanded  dust  of  earth 
Be  dark,  or  earth  be  drowned  beneath  the  sea. 


ON   LIFE  AND   DEATH  25 

VI 

Why  then  torment  ourselves,  and  shrink  aghast 
Like  timorous  children  from  the  great  At  Last  ? 

For  though  the  Future  holds  its  face  averse, 
See  that  hid  face  reflected  in  the  past, 

VII 

As  in  a  shield.     Look  !     Does  some  monster  seem 
To  threaten  there  ?     Is  that  the  Gorgon's  gleam  ? 

What  meets  your  eyes  is  nothing — or  a  face 
Even  gentler  than  a  sleep  without  a  dream. 

VIII 

And  yet — ah  thou  who  art  about  to  cease 
From  toil,  and  lapse  into  perpetual  peace, 

Why  will  the  mourners  stand  about  thy  bed, 
And  sting  thy  parting  hour  with  words  like  these  ? — 


26  LUCRETIUS 

IX 

"  Never  shalt  thou  behold  thy  dear  home  more, 
Never  thy  wife  await  thee  at  thy  door, 
Never  again  thy  little  climbing  boy 
A  father's  kindness  in  thine  eyes  explore. 

x 

"  All  you  have  toiled  for,  all  you  have  loved,"  they 

say, 
"  Is  gone,  is  taken  in  a  single  day  ; " 

But  never  add,  "  All  memory,  all  desire, 
All  love — these  likewise  shall  have  passed  away." 

XI 

Ah  ignorant  mourners  !     Did  they  only  see 
The  fate  which  Death  indeed  lays  up  for  thee, 

How  would  they  sing  a  different  song  from  this — 
"  Beloved,  not  thou  the  sufferer — thou  ;  but  we. 


ON  LIFE   AND   DEATH  27 

XII 

"  Thou  hast  lost  us  all ;    but  thou,  redeemed  from 

pain, 
Shalt  sleep  the  sleep  that  kings  desire  in  vain. 

Thou  hast  left  us  all ;  and  lo,  for  us,  for  us, 
A  void  that  never  shall  be  filled  again. 

XIII 

"  Not  thine,  but  ours,  to  see  the  sharp  flames  thrust 
Their   daggers   through   the   hands   we    clasped    in 
trust ; 
To  see  the  dear  lips  crumble,  and  at  last 
To  brood  above  a  bitter  pile  of  dust. 

XIV 

"  Not  thine,  but  ours  is  this.     All  pain  is  fled 
From  thee,  and  we  are  wailing  in  thy  stead, 

Not  for  the  dead  that  leave  the  loved  behind, 
But  for  the  living  that  must  lose  their  dead." 


V 

Denique  si  vocem 

I 
f)H  ye  of  little  faith,  who  fear  to  scan 

The  inevitable  hour  that  ends  your  span, 
If  me  you  doubt,  let  Nature  find  a  voice  ; 
And  will  not  Nature  reason  thus  with  man  ? 

ii 
"Fools,"  she  will  say,  "whose  petulant  hearts  and 

speech 
Dare  to  arraign,  and  long  to  overreach, 

Mine  ordinance — I  see  two  schools  of  fools. 
Silent  be  both,  and  I  will  speak  with  each. 


LUCRETIUS  ON   LIFE   AND  DEATH        29 

in 

"  And  first  for  thee,  whose  whimpering  lips  complain 
That  all  life's  wine  for  thee  is  poured  in  vain, 

That  each  hour  spills  it  like  a  broken  cup — 
Life  is  for  thee  the  loss,  and  Death  the  gain. 

IV 

"  Death  shall  not  mock  thee.    Death  at  last  shall  slake 
Your  life's  thirst  from  a  cup  that  will  not  break. 
Cease  then  your  mutter ings.     Drain  that  wine-cup 
dry, 
Nor  fear  the  wine.     Why  should  you  wish  to  wake  ? 

v 

"  And  next  for  thee,  who  hast  eaten  and  drunk  with 

zest 
At  my  most  delicate  table  of  the  best, 

Yet  when  the  long  feast  ends  art  loth  to  go, 
Why  not,  oh  fool,  rise  like  a  sated  guest — 


30  LUCRETIUS 

VI 

"  Rise  like  some  guest  who  has  drunk  well  and  deep, 
And  now  no  longer  can  his  eyelids  keep 

From  closing  ;  rise  and  hie  thee  home  to  rest, 
And  enter  calmly  on  the  unending  sleep  ? 

VII 

"  What,  will  you  strive  with  me,  and  say  me  *  No,' 
Like  some  distempered  child  ;  and  whisper  low, 

1  Give  me  but  one  life  more,  one  hour,  to  drink 
One  draught  of  some  new  sweetness  ere  I  go '  ? 

VIII 

"  Oh  three  times  fool !     For  could  I  only  do 
The  impossible  thing  you  ask,  and  give  to  you 
Not  one  life  more,  but  many,  'twere  in  vain. 
You  would  find  nothing  sweet,  and  nothing  new. 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  31 

IX 

"  Pleasure  and  power,  the  friend's,  the  lover's  kiss, 
Would  bring  you  weariness  in  place  of  bliss. 

You  would  turn  aside,  and  say,  '  I  have  known 
them  all, 
And  am  long  tired  of  this,  and  this,  and  this.' 

x 

"  Nature  can  nothing  do  she  has  not  done — 
Nature,  to  whom  a  thousand  lives  are  one  : 

And  though  a  thousand  lives  were  yours  to  endure, 
You  would  find  no  new  thing  beneath  the  Sun. 

XI 

"  Children  of  ended  joy,  and  ended  care, 

I  tell  you  both,  take  back,  take  back  your  prayer  ; 

For  one  life's  joys  and  loves,  or  one  life's  load, 
Are  all,  are  all,  that  one  man's  bones  can  bear." 


32        LUCRETIUS  ON  LIFE  AND  DEATH 

XII 

Such,  if  the  mute  Omnipotence  were  free 
To  speak,  which  it  is  not,  its  words  would  be. 

Could  you  gainsay  them  ?     Lend  your  ears  once 
more, 
Not  to  the  mute  Omnipotence,  but  me. 


VI 

In  vita  sunt  omnia  nobis 

I 
pOR  I,  if  still  you  are  haunted  by  the  fear 

Of  Hell,  have  one  more  secret  for  your  ear. 
Hell  is  indeed  no  fable  ;  but,  my  friends, 
Hell  and  its  torments  are  not  there,  but  here. 

n 

No  Tantalus  down  below  with  craven  head 

Cowers  from  the  hovering  rock  :  but  here  instead 

A  Tantalus  lives  in  each  fond  wretch  who  fears 

An  angry  God,  and  views  the  heavens  with  dread. 

3 


34  LUCRETIUS 

in 
No  Tityos  there  lies  prone,  and  lives  to  feel 
The  beak  of  the  impossible  vulture  steal 

Day  after  day  out  of  his  bleeding  breast 
The  carrion  of  the  insatiable  meal. 

IV 

But  you  and  I  are  Tityos,  when  the  dire 
Poison  of  passion  turns  our  blood  to  fire  ; 

For  despised  love  is  crueller  than  the  pit, 
And  bitterer  than  the  vulture's  beak  desire. 

v 
Hell  holds  no  Sisyphus  who,  with  toil  and  pain, 
Still  rolls  the  huge  stone  up  the  hill  in  vain. 
But  he  is  Sisyphus  who,  athirst  for  power, 
Fawns  on  the  crowd,  and  toils  and  fails  to  gain 


ON   LIFE  AND   DEATH  35 

VI 

The  crowd's  vile  suffrage.     What  a  doom  is  his — 
Abased  and  unrewarded  !     Is  not  this 

Ever  to  roll  the  huge  stone  up  the  hill, 
And  see  it  still  rebounding  to  the  abyss  ? 

VII 

Oh  forms  of  fear,  oh  sights  and  sounds  of  woe  ! 
The  shadowy  road  down  which  we  all  must  go 

Leads  not  to  these,  but  from  them.     Hell  is  here, 
Here  in  the  broad  day.     Peace  is  there  below. 

VIII 

Think  yet  again,  if  still  your  fears  protest, 
Think  how  the  dust  of  this  broad  road  to  rest 

Is  homely  with  the  feet  of  all  you  love, 
The  wisest,  and  the  bravest,  and  the  best. 


36  LUCRETIUS 

IX 

Ancus  has  gone  before  you  down  that  road. 
Scipio,  the  lord  of  war,  the  all-dreaded  goad 

Of  Carthage,  he  too,  like  his  meanest  slave, 
Has  travelled  humbly  to  the  same  abode. 

x 

Thither  the  singers,  and  the  sages  fare, 
Thither  the  great  queens  with  their  golden  hair. 

Homer  himself  is  there  with  all  his  songs  ; 
And  even  my  mighty  Master's  self  is  there. 

XI 

There  too  the  knees  that  nursed  you,  and  the  clay 
That  was  a  mother  once,  this  many  a  day 

Have  gone.     Thither  the  king  with  crowned  brows 
Goes,  and  the  weaned  child  leads  him  on  the  way. 


ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH  37 

XII 

Brother  and  friend,  and  art  thou  still  averse 

To  tread  that  road  ?     And  will  the  way  be  worse 

For  thee  than  them  ?     Dost  thou  disdain  or  fear 
To  tread  the  road  of  babes,  and  emperors  ? 

XIII 

Is  life  so  sweet  a  thing,  then,  even  for  those 
On  whom  it  smiles  in  all  its  bravest  shows  ? 
See,  in  his  marble  hall  the  proud  lord  lies, 
And  seems  to  rest,  but  does  not  know  repose. 

xiv 

"  Bring  me  my  chariot,"  to  his  slaves  he  cries. 

The  chariot  comes.    With  thundering  hoofs  he  flies — 

Flies  to  his  villa,  where  the  calm  arcades 
Prophesy  peace,  and  fountains  cool  the  skies. 


38  LUCRETIUS 

xv 

Vain  are  the  calm  arcades,  the  fountain's  foam, 
Vain  the  void  solitude  he  calls  a  home. 

"  Bring  me  my  chariot,"  like  a  hunted  thing 
He  cries  once  more,  and  thunders  back  to  Rome. 

XVI 

So  each  man  strives  to  flee  that  secret  foe 
Which  is  himself.     But  move  he  swift  or  slow, 

That  Self,  for  ever  punctual  at  his  heels, 
Never  for  one  short  hour  will  let  him  go. 

XVII 

How,  could  he  only  teach  his  eyes  to  see 
The  things  that  can,  the  things  that  cannot  be, 

He  would  hail  the  road  by  which  he  shall  at  last 
Escape  the  questing  monster,  and  be  free  ! 


ON   LIFE   AND  DEATH  39 

XVIII 

He  shall  escape  it  even  by  that  same  way 

On  which  fear  whispers  him  'twill  turn  to  bay  : 

For  on  that  road  the  questing  monster  dies 
Like  a  mans  shadow  on  a  sunless  day. 

XIX 

Brother  and  friend,  this  life  brings  joy  and  ease 
And  love  to  some,  to  some  the  lack  of  these — 

Only  the  lack  ;  to  others  tears  and  pain  ; 
But  at  the  last  it  brings  to  all  the  peace 

xx 

That  passes  understanding.     Sweet,  thrice  sweet, 
This  healing  Gospel  of  the  unhomed  retreat, 

Where,  though  not  drinking,  we  shall  no  more  thirst, 
And  meeting  not,  shall  no  more  wish  to  meet. 


VII 

Scire  licet  nobis  nihil  esse  in  morte  timendum 

I 
"  HpHY  wife,  thy  home,  the  child  that  climbed  thy  knee 
Are  sinking  down  like  sails  behind  the  sea." 
Breathe  to  the  dying  this  ;  but  breathe  as  well, 
"  All  love  for  these  shall  likewise  pass  from  thee." 

ii 

Brother,  if  I  should  watch  their  last  light  shine 
In  those  loved  eyes,  those  dying  ears  of  thine 

Should  hear  me  murmur  what,  when  my  hour  comes, 
I  would  some  friend  might  murmur  into  mine. 


LUCRETIUS  ON   LIFE   AND   DEATH        41 

in 
Rest,  rest,  perturbed  bosom — heart  forlorn, 
With  thoughts  of  ended  joys,  and  evil  borne, 

And — worse — of  evil  done  :  for  they,  like  thee, 
Shall  rest — those  others  thou  hast  made  to  mourn. 

IV 

Even  if  there  lurk  behind  some  veil  of  sky 
The  fabled  Maker,  the  immortal  Spy, 

Ready  to  torture  each  poor  life  he  made, 
Thou  canst  do  more  than  God  can — thou  canst  die. 

v 
Will  not  the  thunders  of  thy  God  be  dumb 
When  thou  art  deaf  for  ever  ?     Can  the  Sum 

Of  all  things  bruise  what  is  not  ?     Nay — take  heart ; 
For  where  thou  goest,  thither  no  God  can  come. 


42  LUCRETIUS 

VI 

Rest,  brother,  rest.     Have  you  done  ill  or  well, 
Rest,  rest.     There  is  no  God,  no  Gods,  who  dwell 

Crowned  with  avenging  righteousness  on  high, 
Nor  frowning  ministers  of  their  hate  in  Hell. 

VII 

None  shall  accuse  thee,  none  shall  judge  :  for  lo, 
Those  others  have  forgotten  long  ago  : 
And  all  thy  sullied  drifts  of  memory 
Shall  lie  as  white,  shall  lie  as  cold  as  snow  : 

VIII 

And  no  vain  hungering  for  the  joys  of  yore 
Gone  with  the  vanished  sunsets,  nor  the  sore 
Torn  in  your  heart  by  all  the  ills  you  did, 
Nor  even  the  smart  of  those  poor  ills  you  bore  ; 


ON   LIFE  AND   DEATH  43 

IX 

And  no  omnipotent  wearer  of  a  crown 

Of  righteousness,  nor  fiend  with  branded  frown 

Swart  from  the  flame,  shall  break  or  reach  your  rest, 
Or  stir  your  temples  from  the  eternal  down. 

x 

Flakes  of  the  water,  on  the  waters  cease  ! 
Soul  of  the  body,  melt  and  sleep  like  these. 

Atoms  to  atoms — weariness  to  rest. 
Ashes  to  ashes — hopes  and  fears  to  peace ! 


PASSAGES 
FROM  LUCRETIUS  <DE  RERUM  NATURA' 

Which  form  the  Basis  of  the  Preceding  Poem 

I 

i 
CUAVE  mari  magno  vexantibus  aequora  ventis 
E  terra  magnum  alterius  spectare  laborem  ; 
Non  quia  vexari  quemquam  est  iucunda  voluptas, 
Set  quibus  ipse  malis  careas  quia  cernere  suave  est. 

It  is  sweet  when  winds  are  troubling  the  waters  on 
the  great  deep,  to  watch  from  land  the  great  labours  of 
another  ;  not  because  there  is  any  light-hearted  pleasure 
in  knowing  that  another  is  suffering,  but  because  it 
is  pleasant  to  realise  from  what  sufferings  you  yourself 
are  free. — Lucretius,  Book  ii.  1-4. 


46  LUCRETIUS 

ii 

Per  campos  instructa  tua  sine  parte  pericli 
Suave  etiam  belli  certamina  magna  tueri. 

It  is  also  sweet  to  behold,  without  any  peril  to  your- 
self, the  great  forces  of  war  arrayed  for  battle  along 
the  plains. — Book  ii.  5,  6. 

in 

Sed  nil  dulcius  est  bene  quam  munita  tenere 
Edita  doctrina  sapientum  templa  serena  ; 
Despicere  unde  queas  alios  passimque  videre 
Errare, 

But  nothing  is  sweeter  than  to  occupy  the  well- 
defended  serene  heights  of  the  wise,  built  high  with 
learning,  from  which  you  may  be  able  to  look  down  on 
others,  and  see  them  wandering  {Ibid.  7-10), 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  47 

IV 

atque  viarri  palantes  quaerere  vitae, 
Certare  ingenio,  contendere  nobilitate, 
Noctes  atque  dies  niti  praestante  labore 
Ad  summas  emergere  opes  rerumque  potiri. 

and  straying  in  all  directions  in  search  of  the  path  of 
life,  contending  in  intellect,  in  pride  of  birth,  and 
struggling  with  hard  labour  day  and  night  to  rise  to 
wealth,  and  seize  on  the  government  of  affairs. — 
Ibid.  10-13. 

v 
O  miseras  hominum  mentes !  o  pectora  caeca  ! 
Qualibus  in  tenebris  vitae  quantisque  periclis 
Degitur  hoc  aevi  quodcumque  est !     Nonne  videtis 
Nil  aliud  sibi  naturam  latrare, 

Oh  miserable  minds  of  men  !  oh  blind  breasts  !     In 
what  shadows  of  life,  in  what  perils  such  life  as  is  yours 


48  LUCRETIUS 

is  passed !     Do  not  you  see  that  Nature  demands  for 
herself  no  more  than  this  (Book  ii.  14-16) — 


VI 

— nisi  ut  cui 
Corpore  seiunctus  dolor  absit,  mente  fruatur 
Iucundo  sensu  cura  semota  metuque  ? 

— that  he  from  whose  body  care  is  removed  and  absent, 
may  enjoy  his  mind  with  pleasure,  freed  from  care  and 
fear  ? — Ibid.  17-19. 

Ergo  corpoream  ad  naturam  pauca  videmus 
Esse  opus  omnino,  quae  demant  cumque  dolorem 
Delicias  quoque  uti  multas  substernere  possint. 

We  see,  therefore,  that  but  few  things  are  necessary 
to  the  nature  of  the  body,  in  order  to  ward  off  pain, 
and  to  give  us  many  pleasures. — Ibid.  20-22. 


PASSAGES   FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  49 

VII 

Si  non  aurea  sunt  iuvenum  simulacra  per  aedes 
Lampadas  igniferas  manibus  retinentia  dextris, 
Lumina  nocturnis  epulis  ut  suppeditentur, 
Nee  domus  argento  fulget  auroque  renidet, 
Nee  citharae  reboant  laqueata  aurataque  templa  ; 

If  there  are  not  in  your  houses,  golden  statues  of 
youths,  holding  burning  lamps  in  their  hands,  to  supply 
light  to  the  midnight  feast ;  if  their  hall  shines 
not  with  silver,  nor  glitters  with  gold,  nor  the  lyre 
makes  the  fretted  and  gilded  roofs  resound  {Ibid. 
24-28)  ; 

VIII 

Quum  tamen  inter  se  prostrati  in  gramine  molli 
Propter  aquae  rivum  sub  ramis  arboris  altae 
Non  magnis  opibus  iucunde  corpora  curant. 

nevertheless    when    they    have     stretched    themselves 
on  the  soft  grass,  near  a  rivulet  of  water,  under  the 


50  LUCRETIUS 

branches  of  a  tree,  they,  with  no  great  riches,  so  far  as 
the  senses  go,  have  a  happy  life  enough. — Book  ii.  29-31. 

IX 

Nee  calidae  citius  decedunt  corpore  febres 
Textilibus  si  in  picturis  ostroque  rubenti 
Iacteris,  quam  si  in  plebeia  veste  cubandum  est. 

Nor  do  hot  fevers  depart  sooner  from  your  body,  if 
you  are  tossed  on  woven  pictures  and  blushing  purple, 
than  if  you  have  to  lie  under  a  plebeian  coverlet. — 
Ibid.  34-36. 

X  AND  XI 

Quapropter  quoniam  nil  nostro  in  corpore  gazae 

Proficiunt  neque  nobilitas  neque  gloria  regni, 

Quod  superest  animo  quoque  nil  prodesse  putandum. 

Wherefore  since  neither  treasures,  nor  nobility,  nor 
the  glory  of  a  kingdom  are  of  any  profit  to  the  body, 


PASSAGES   FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  51 

we  must  deem  also  that  they  are  of  no  profit  to  the 
mind. — Ibid.  37-39. 

XII 

Si  non  forte  tuas  legiones  per  loca  campi 
Fervere  quum  videas,  belli  simulacra  cientes, 
His  tibi  turn  rebus  timefactae  religiones 
Effugiunt  animo  pavidae,  mortisque  timores. 

Unless,  perhaps,  when  you  see  your  legions  moving 
themselves  along  the  places  of  the  plain,  stirring  up 
images  of  war,  the  terrors  of  religion  and  the  dread  of 
death,  frightened  by  these  things,  flee  panic-stricken 
from  your  mind. — Ibid.  41-44. 

XIII  TO  XIX 

Aeternas  quoniam  poenas  in  morte  timendum, 

Since  men  [as  they  now  believe]  have  to  fear  an 
eternity  of  torment  when  they  die  (Book  i.  1 11), 


52  LUCRETIUS 

Metus  ille  foras  praeceps  Acherontis  agendus, 
Funditus  humanam  qui  vitam  turbat  ab  imo 
Omnia  suffundens  mortis  nigrore,  neque  ullam 
Esse  voluptatem  liquidam  puramque  relinquit. 

that  fear  of  Acheron  must  be  driven  headlong  from 
our  minds  utterly  which  now  suffuses  all  things  with  the 
darkness  of  death,  nor  allows  any  pleasure  to  remain  to 
us  clear  and  pure. — Book  iii.  37-40. 


II 


1-TUNC  igitur  terrorem  animi  tenebrasque  necesse  est 

Non  radii  solis  neque  lucida  tela  diei 
Discutiant,  sed  naturae  species  ratioque. 

This  terror  and  these  shadows  of  the  mind  must  be 
dispersed,  not  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  or  the  lucid  darts 
of  day,  but  by  the  knowledge  of  nature  and  of  reason. — 
Book  iii.  91-93. 

II  TO  IV 

E  tenebris  tantis  tarn  clarum  extollere  lumen 
Qui  primus  potuisti  illustrans  commoda  vitae, 
Te  sequor,  o  Graiae  gentis  decus,  inque  tuis  nunc 
Fixa  pedum  pono  pressis  vestigia  signis. 


54  LUCRETIUS 

Thou,  who  from  so  great  darkness  wert  first  able  to 
lift  so  shining  a  light,  illuminating  the  blessings  of  life, 
Thee,  oh  glory  of  the  Grecian  race,  do  I  follow,  and 
plant  my  feet  in  thy  footprints. — Book  iii.  1-4. 

Ipse  Epicurus  [qui]   .  .  .  omnes 
Restinxit,  Stellas  exortus  uti  aetherius  sol. 

Epicurus,  who  extinguishes  the  lights  of  all  other 

men,  as  the   risen   sun    extinguishes   the  stars. — Ibid. 

1055. 

v 

Humana  ante  oculos  foede  quum  vita  iaceret 
In  terris  oppressa  gravi  sub  religione 
Quae  caput  a  coeli  regionibus  ostendebat 
Horribili  super  aspectu  mortalibus  instans, 
Primum  Graius  homo  mortales  tollere  contra 
Est  oculos  ausus  primusque  obsistere  contra. 

When  human  life  lay  shamefully  grovelling  before  our 
eyes,  bowed  to  the  dust  beneath  the  heavy  weight  of 


PASSAGES   FROM   THE   ORIGINAL  55 

religion,  which  displayed  its  head  from  the  regions  of 
the  heavens,  threatening  mortals  with  her  hideous 
aspect,  a  man  of  Greece  was  the  first  to  raise  mortal  eyes 
against  her,  and  make  a  stand  against  her. — Book  i. 
63-68. 

VI 

Quern  nee  fama  deum  nee  fulmina  nee  minitanti 
Murmure  compressit  coelum. 

Whom  neither  tales  of  Gods,  nor  lightnings,  nor  the 
heaven  with  its  threatening  murmurs  repressed. — Ibid. 
69,  70. 

VII 

Ergo  vivida  vis  animi  pervicit  et  extra 

Processit  longe  flammantia  moenia  mundi 

Atque  omne  immensum  peragravit  mente  animoque, 

Unde  refer t  nobis  victor  quid  possit  oriri, 

Quid  nequeat. 


56  LUCRETIUS 

Therefore  the  vivid  strength  of  his  mind  conquered, 
and  proceeded  far  beyond  the  flaming  walls  of  the 
universe,  and  in  mind  and  thought  traversed  the  whole 
vast  of  space  ;  and  hence  triumphant  he  brings  back 
to  us  the  knowledge  of  what  can  arise  and  exist,  and 
what  cannot. — Book  i.  73-76. 


VIII 

Nam  simul  ac  ratio  tua  coepit  vociferari 
Naturam  rerum,  haud  divina  mente  coactam, 
DifFugiunt  animi  terrores,  moenia  mundi 
Discedunt.     Totum  video  per  inane  geri  res. 

For  as  soon  as  thy  reason  begins  to  shout  aloud  the 
nature  of  things — nature  not  ruled  by  the  mind  of  any 
deity — the  terrors  of  the  mind  flee  away  ;  the  walls  of 
the  universe  open  ;  and  I  see  the  process  of  things  in  all 
the  void  of  space. — Book  iii.  14-17. 


PASSAGES   FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  57 


IX  TO  XI 


Apparet  Divum  numen  sedesque  quietae, 
Quas  neque  concutiunt  venti  nee  nubila  nimbis 
Adspergunt  neque  nix  acri  concreta  pruina 
Cana  cadens  violat,  semperque  innubilus  aether 
Integer  et  large  diffuso  lumine  ridet. 
Omnia  suppeditat  porro  natura  neque  ulla 
Res  animi  pacem  delibat  tempore  in  ullo. 

The  divinity  of  the  gods  appears,  and  their  tranquil 
seats,  which  no  winds  shake  nor  clouds  sprinkle  with 
mist,  nor  the  white  falling  snow,  congealed  with  sharp 
frost,  violates  ;  but  the  pure  air  is  cloudless  ever,  and 
laughs  with  diffused  light.  Nature,  too,  provides  the 
gods  with  all  things  ;  nor  does  anything  ever  take 
their  peace  of  heart  away  from  them. — Ibid.  18-24. 


58  LUCRETIUS 

XII  TO  XIV 

At  contra  nusquam  apparent  Acherusia  templa 
Nee  tellus  obstat  quin  omnia  dispiciantur. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  though  the  earth  does  not 
hinder  a  complete  view  of  everything,  the  Acherusian 
abodes  are  to  be  seen  nowhere. — Book  iii.  25-26. 

XV  TO  XVII 

His  ibi  me  rebus  quaedam  divina  voluptas 
Percipit  atque  horror. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  spectacles,  a  certain 
divine  pleasure  and  awe  takes  hold  of  me. — Ibid.  28-29. 

Natura  .  .  .  corpus  inani 
Et  quod  inane  autem  est  finiri  corpore  cogit, 
Ut  sic  alternis  infinita  omnia  reddat. 


PASSAGES   FROM   THE   ORIGINAL  59 

Nature  compels  body  to  be  bounded  with  space,  and 
empty  space  to  be  bounded  by  body,  so  that  by  these 
mutual  limits  she  may  render  all  things  infinite. — Book 
i.  1 009-101 1. 

Minui  rem  quamque  videmus 
Et  quasi  longinquo  fluere  omnia  cernimus  aevo 

Quum  tamen  incolumis  videatur  summa  manere. 

We  see  that  all  things  are  diminished  and  flow  away 
through  length  of  time  ;  but  the  great  sum  of  things 
is  seen  to  remain  undecayed. — Book  ii.  68-71. 


Ill 

I 
TV/JUT  AT  enim  mundi  naturam  totius  aetas 

Ex  alioque  alius  status  excipere  omnia  debet, 
Nee  manet  ulla  sui  similis  res.     Omnia  migrant. 

For  time  changes  the  nature  of  the  entire  universe, 
and  one  condition  of  things  after  another  must  succeed 
in  all  things  :  nor  does  anything  abide  like  itself.  All 
things  move  and  change. — Book  v.  828-830. 

11 
Sic  igitur  magni  quoque  circum  moenia  mundi 
Expugnata  dabunt  labem  putresque  ruinas. 

So  likewise  the  walls  of  the  great  universe  assailed 
on  all  sides  [by  age  and  the  attack  of  hostile  atoms] 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  61 

shall  suffer  decay,  and  fall  in  mouldering  ruin. — Book 
ii.  1 144,  1 145. 

in 

Quare  etiam  atque  etiam  tales  fateare  necesse  est 

Esse  alios  alibi  congressus  materiai 

Qualis  hie  est  avido  complexu  quern  tenet  aether. 

Wherefore  again  and  again  it  is  necessary  that  you 
admit  the  existences  of  other  aggregates  of  matter 
elsewhere,  such  as  the  earth,  which  the  air  holds  in  its 
close  embrace. — Ibid.  1 061-1063. 

Iamque  adeo  fracta  est  aetas  effoetaque  tellus. 
Already  the  age  of  the  world  is  broken,  and  the 
earth  worn  out. — Ibid.  1 1 50. 

IV 

Magnam  partem  sol  detrahit  aestu  .  .  . 
Praeterea  docui  multum  quoque  tollere  nubes 
Humorem,  magno  conceptum  ex  aequore  ponti. 


62  LUCRETIUS 

The  sun  with  its  heat  draws  off  a  large  part  of  the 
sea.  I  have  shown  thee  also  how  the  clouds  take  off 
much  drawn  by  them  from  the  vast  surface  of  the 
deep. — Book  v.  617,  628,  629. 

v 
Et  inter  se  mortales  mutua  vivunt. 
Augescunt  aliae  gentes,  aliae  minuuntur, 
Inque  brevi  spatio  mutantur  saecla  animantum. 

The  races  of  mortals  subsist  by  interchange.  Some 
races  increase,  some  diminish,  and  in  a  brief  space 
of  time  the  generations  of  the  living  are  changed. — 
Book  ii.  76-78. 

VI 

Pereunt  imbres,  ubi  eos  pater  aether 
In  gremium  matris  terrai  praecipitavit ; 
At  nitidae  surgunt  fruges  ramique  virescunt. 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  63 

The  rains  die  when  father  aether  has  precipitated 
them  into  the  lap  of  mother  earth  ;  but  the  shining 
fruits  rise,  and  the  branches  of  the  trees  grow  green. — 
Book  i.  251-253. 

VIII  AND  IX 

Nam  quodcumque  suis  mutatum  finibus  exit, 
Continuo  hoc  mors  est  illius  quod  fuit  ante. 

For  whatsoever  thing  is  changed,  and  loses  its 
distinguishing  qualities,  this  change  is  the  instant  death 
of  the  thing  which  was  before. — Book  ii.  753,  754. 

IX,   X,  AND   XI 

Quod  genus  e  thuris  glebis  evellere  odorem 
Haud  facile  est  quin  intereat  natura  quoque  eius. 
Sic  animi  atque  animae  naturam  corpore  toto 
Extrahere  haud  facile  est  quin  corpora  dissolvantur. 

For  as  you  cannot  tear  away  the  scent  from  balls  of 
frankincense,  without  at  the  same  time  destroying  its 


64  LUCRETIUS 

whole  nature,  so  you  cannot  extract  the  mind  and  soul 
from  the  whole  body,  without  the  body  being  dissolved. 
— Book  iii.  327-330. 

XV  AND   XVI 

Turn  porro  puer,  ut  saevis  proiectus  ab  undis 
Navita,  nudus  humi  iacet,  infans,  indigus  omni 
Vitali  auxilio,  quum  primum  in  luminis  oras 
Nixibus  ex  alvo  matris  natura  profudit 
Vagituque  locum  lugubri  complet,  ut  aequum  est 
Cui  tantum  in  vita  restat  transire  malorum. 

Moreover  the  babe,  like  a  sailor  cast  up  by  the 
fierce  waves,  lies  speechless,  without  all  vital  support, 
naked  upon  the  ground,  where  first  nature  with  pain 
has  sent  it  from  its  mother's  womb,  forth  into  the 
regions  of  light ;  and  it  fills  the  air  with  a  dismal 
wailing,  as  is  right  for  one  for  whom  in  life  so  many 
sorrows  remain  to  be  passed  through. — Book  v.  222-227. 


PASSAGES   FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  65 

XVII 

Praeterea  gigni  pariter  cum  corpore  et  una 
Crescere  sentimus  pariterque  senescere  mentem. 

Besides  we  see  the  mind  to  be  born  with  the  body, 
to  grow  with  the  body,  and  to  decay  with  it. — Book  iii. 
446-447. 

XIX 

Nequeunt  ullius  corporis  esse 
Sensus  ante  ipsam  genitam  naturam  animantis, 
Nimirum  quia  materies  disiecta  tenetur 
Aere  fluminibus  terris. 

The  senses  of  no  living  thing  can  exist  before  the 
substance  of  the  living  thing  itself  is  got  together  ;  and 
naturally  so,  because  till  then  the  materials  are  dispersed 
in  the  air,  the  rivers,  and  in  the  earth. — Book  ii.  936- 
939- 


66  LUCRETIUS 

XXI 

Nam  sua  cuique  locis  ex  omnibus  omnia  plagis 
Corpora  distribuuntur  et  ad  sua  saecla  recedunt. 
Humor  ad  humorem,  terreno  corpore  terra 
Crescit  et  ignem  ignes  procudunt  aetheraque  aether. 

For  to  every  body  from  all  regions  of  space  are 
contributed  by  atomic  agitation  its  own  congruous 
atoms ;  moisture  to  moisture ;  earth  to  earth  ;  fire  to 
fire  ;  air  to  air. — Book  ii.  1 1 1 2-1 1 1 5. 


IV 


"^TIL  igitur  mors  est  ad  nos  neque  pertinet  hilum, 
Quandoquidem  natura  animi  mortalis  habctur. 

Death  therefore  is  nothing,  and  has  nothing  to  do 
with  us,  since  the  nature  of  the  mind  is  mortal. — Book 
iii.  842,  843. 

II   AND  III 

Et  velut  anteacto  nil  tempore  sensimus  aegri, 
Ad  confligendum  venientibus  undique  Poenis, 
Omnia  quum  belli  trepido  concussa  tumultu 
Horrida  contremuere  sub  altis  aetheris  auris, 
In  dubioque  fuere  utrorum  ad  regna  cadendum 
Omnibus  humanis  esset  terraque  marique  : — 


68  LUCRETIUS 

And  as,  in  past  time,  we  felt  no  trouble  ourselves, 
when  the  Carthaginians  gathered  from  all  sides  to  con- 
flict, and  when  all  things  with  the  terrifying  tumult  of 
war  trembled  under  the  high  air  of  heaven  ;  and  it  was 
doubtful  under  the  sway  of  which  power  the  rule  of  all 
things  human,  in  land  and  sea,  should  fall : — (Book  iii. 

843-849O 

IV  AND  V 

Sic,  ubi  non  erimus,  quum  corporis  atque  animal 
Discidium  fuerit  quibus  e  sumus  uniter  apti, 
Scilicet  haud  nobis  quidquam,  qui  non  erimus  turn, 
Accidere  omnino  poterit  sensumque  movere, 
Non  si  terra  mari  miscebitur  et  mare  coelo. 

So  when  we  shall  cease  to  be,  and  when  the  disrup- 
tion shall  come  of  that  soul  and  body  of  which  we  are 
jointly  composed,  it  is  certain  that  to  us,  who  shall  not 
then  exist,  nothing  will  be  able  to  happen,  or  to  rouse 


PASSAGES   FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  69 

our  feelings,  not  even  if  the  earth  shall  be  mingled  with 
the  sea,  and  the  sea  with  heaven. — Ibid.  850-854. 


VI 

Respice  item  quam  nil  ad  nos  anteacta  vetustas 
Temporis  aeterni  fuerit,  quam  nascimur  ante. 
Hoc  igitur  speculum  nobis  natura  futuri 
Temporis  exponit  post  mortem  denique  nostram. 
Num  quid  horribile  apparet  ?     Num  triste  videtur 
Quidquam  ?     Nonne  omni  somno  securius  extat  ? 

Consider  also  how  all  the  endless  time  that  passed 
before  we  were  born  was  nothing  to  us.  This  does 
nature  hold  up  to  us  as  a  mirror,  of  that  time  to  come, 
which  shall  be  when  we  are  dead.  Does  anything 
horrible  appear  ?  Is  anything  sad  seen  ?  Is  not  what 
you  see  there  calmer  than  any  sleep? — Ibid.  985-990. 


70  LUCRETIUS 

VII  TO  IX 

Nam  iam  non  domus  accipiet  te  laeta,  neque  uxor 
Optima  nee  dukes  occurrent  oscula  nati 
Praeripere  et  tacita  pectus  dulcedine  tangent  .  .  . 
IUud  in  his  rebus  non  addunt,  Nee  tibi  earum 
Iam  desiderium  insidet  rerum  insuper  ulla. 

For  now  [say  the  mourners]  your  pleasant  home 
shall  never  again  receive  you,  nor  your  well-loved  wife, 
nor  your  tender  little  ones  run  to  you  to  snatch  your 
kisses,  and  touch  your  heart  with  a  silent  sweetness. 
[The  mourners  say  this,  but]  they  never  think  of  add- 
ing, Nor  shall  any  longer  any  desire  for  these  things 
remain  with  you. — Book  iii.  907-913. 

x  TO  XIII 

Quod  bene  si  videant  animo  dictisque  sequantur, 
Dissolvant  animi  magno  se  angore  metuque. 
Tu  quidem  ut  es  lecto  sopitus,  sic  eris  aevi 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  71 

Quod  superest  cunctis  privatu'  doloribus  aegris  ; 
At  nos  horrifico  cinefactum  te  prope  busto 
Insatiabiliter  deflebimus  ;  aeternumque 
Nulla  dies  nobis  moerorem  e  pectore  demet. 

Which  truth,  if  men  would  see  with  their  minds,  and 
follow  it  with  their  words,  they  would  free  themselves 
from  much  sorrow  and  fear  of  mind.  [Then  would 
they  say  to  the  dying]  You  laid  to  sleep  on  your  bed, 
will  be  as  you  are  for  ever,  freed  from  all  cark  and 
care  ;  but  we  standing  by  you,  never  shall  cease  weep- 
ing for  your  loss  ;  nor  will  ever  the  day  come  to  our 
lives  which  will  take  our  abiding  sorrow  from  our 
hearts. — Ibid.  9 1 4-9  2 1 . 


"\ENIQUE  si  vocem  rerum  natura  repente 

Mittat  et  hoc  alicui  nostrum  sic  increpet  ipsa  : — 

Lastly,  if  the  nature  of  things  should  suddenly  utter 
a  voice,  and  herself  thus  upbraid  any  one  of  us  : — (Book 
iii.  944,  945.) 

11 

Quid  tibi  tantopere  est  mortalis  quod  nimis  aegris 
Luctibus  indulges  ?  quid  mortem  congemis  ac  fles  ? 

What  good  cause  have  you,  oh  mortal,  to  indulge  in 
this  immoderate  grief?  Why  do  you  bemoan  and  weep 
over  your  coming  death? — Ibid.  946,  947. 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  73 

III  AND   IV 

Sin  ea  quae  fructus  quumque  es  periere  profusa 
Vitaque  in  offenso  est,  cur  amplius  addere  quaeris  ? 

But  if  these  things,  of  which  you  have  had  the  use, 
have  been  poured  out  and  wasted,  and  life  is  hateful  to 
you,  why  seek  to  add  to  it? — Ibid,  953,  954. 

v  AND  VI 

Nam  gratum  fuerit  tibi  vita  anteacta  priorque 
Et  non  omnia  pertusum  congesta  quasi  in  vas 
Commoda  perfluxere  atque  ingrata  interiere  ; 
Cur  non  ut  plenus  vitae  conviva  recedis 
Aequo  animoque  capis  securam,  stulte,  quietem  ? 

For  if  your  past  life  has  been  grateful  to  you,  and  all 
your  blessings  have  not,  as  though  poured  into  a  leaky 
vessel,  flowed  away,  and  been  lost,  why  not,  like  a  guest 


74  LUCRETIUS 

sated  at  the  banquet  of  life,  retire,  and  with  calm  mind 
take  your  rest  that  never  will  be  broken? — Book  iii. 
948-952. 


VII  TO  X 

Cur  .  .  . 

Nee  potius  vitae  finem  facis  atque  laboris  ? 
Nam  tibi  praeterea  quod  machiner  inveniamque, 
Quod  placeat,  nihil  est ;  eadem  sunt  omnia  semper. 
.  .  .  eadem  tamen  omnia  restant, 
Omnia  si  pergas  vivendo  vincere  saecla. 

Why  not  rather  wish  [instead  of  living  on]  to  make 
an  end  of  life  and  sorrow  at  once  ?  For  there  is  nothing 
further  which  I  could  contrive  or  find  out  to  please  you. 
All  things  are  always  the  same  .  .  .  You  would  find 
them  always  the  same,  even  if  you  outlasted  all  the 
ages  in  living. — Ibid.  958-962. 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  75 

XII 

Quid  respondemus,  nisi  iustam  intendere  litem, 
Naturam  et  veram  verbis  exponere  causam  ? 

What  do  we  answer  to  all  this,  but  that  nature  brings 
a  just  charge  against  us,  and  sets  forth  a  true  case,  in  so 
speaking  ? — Ibid.  962,  963. 


VI 


A  TQUE  ea  nimirum  quaecunque  Acherunte  prof  undo 
Prodita  sunt  esse,  in  vita  sunt  omnia  nobis. 

And  those  things  which  are  said  to  be  in  the  depths 
of  hell,  really  all  of  them  happen  to  us,  not  there,  but 
in  life. — Book  iii.  991,  992. 

11 

Nee  miser  impendens  magnum  timet  aere  saxum 
Tantalus,  ut  fama  est,  cassa  formidine  torpens  : 
Sed  magis  in  vita  divum  metus  urget  inanis 
Mortales  casumque  timent  quern  cuique  ferat  fors. 

Nor  does  any  miserable  Tantalus,  as  is  said,  stupid 
with  blind  fear,  dread  the  great  rock  hanging  above 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  77 

him  in  the  air.  But  in  this  life  an  empty  fear  of  the 
gods  oppresses  mortals  ;  and  they  dread  the  fall  that 
chance  may  bring  to  each. — Ibid.  993-996. 

in 
Nee  Tityon  volucres  ineunt  Acherunte  iacentem 
Nee  quid  sub  magno  scrutentur  pectore  quidquam 
Perpetuam  aetatem  poterunt  reperire  profecto  .   .   . 
Nee  tamen  aeternum  poterit  perferre  laborem 
Nee  praebere  cibum  proprio  de  cor  pore  semper. 

Nor  do  the  birds  penetrate  Tityos  as  he  lies  in 
Acheron ;  nor,  however  his  huge  breast  might  be 
explored,  could  they  find  food  there  for  infinite  time  .  .  . 
Nor  could  he  himself  endure  the  eternal  pain,  nor 
supply  food  always  from  his  body. — Ibid.  997-1004. 

IV 

Sed  Tityos  nobis  hie  est,  in  amore  iacentem 
Quern  volucres  lacerant  atque  exest  anxius  angor. 


78  LUCRETIUS 

But  he  is  a  Tityos  amongst  us,  whom,  as  he  lies  in 
love,  the  birds  of  passion  tear,  and  anxious  disquiet 
eats. — Book  iii.  1005- 1009. 

v 

Sisyphus  in  vita  quoque  nobis  ante  oculos  est 
Qui  petere  a  populo  fasces  saevasque  secures 
Imbibit  et  semper  victus  tristisque  recedit. 

A  Sisyphus  likewise  is  before  our  eyes  in  this  life,  in 
him  who  sets  himself  to  seek  from  the  voters  the 
fasces  and  the  fierce  axes,  and  retires  always  beaten  and 
sad. — Ibid.  1008-1010. 

VI 

Nam  petere  imperium  quod  inane  est  nee  datur  unquam 
Atque  in  eo  semper  durum  sufferre  laborem, 
Hoc  est  adverso  nixantem  trudere  monte 
Saxum  quod  tamen  a  summo  iam  vertice  rursum 
Volvitur  et  plani  raptim  petit  aequora  campi. 


PASSAGES   FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  79 

For  to  seek  power,  which  is  empty  in  itself,  and  is 
moreover  not  gained,  and  constantly  to  endure  hard 
labour  in  the  pursuit  of  it,  this  is  to  hurl  the  stone  with 
pain  up  the  adverse  hill,  which  yet  is  even  now  rolled 
down  again  from  the  summit,  and  impetuously  seeks 
the  surface  of  the  open  plain. — Ibid.  1011-1015. 


VII 

Hinc  Acherusia  fit  stultorum  denique  vita. 

From  fears  of  the  torments  of  hell,  the  life  of  fools 
becomes  a  hell  itself. — Ibid.  1036. 


VIII 

Hoc  etiam  tibi  tute  interdum  dicere  possis. 

This  too  you  will  also  be  able  to  say  to  yourself, 
[to  give  yourself  courage]. — Ibid.  1037. 


80  LUCRETIUS 

IX 

Lumina  sis  oculis  etiam  bonus  Anai'  reliquit  .  .  . 
Scipiades,  belli  fulmen,  Carthaginis  horror, 
Ossa  dedit  terrae  proinde  ac  famul  infimus  esset. 

Even  the  good  Ancus  has  deserted  the  light  with  his 
eyes  .  .  .  Scipio,  the  thunderbolt  of  war,  the  dread  of 
Carthage,  gave  his  bows  to  the  earth,  as  though  he 
were  his  lowest  slave. — Book  iii.  1038,  and  1047,  1048. 

x 

Adde  repertores  doctrinarum  atque  leporum, 

Adde  Heliconiadum  comites;  quorum  unus  Homer  us . . . 

Ipse  Epicurus  obit  decurso  lumine  vitae. 

Add  to  these  the  inventors  of  the  sciences  and  the 
graces,  and  the  companies  of  the  Muses,  of  whom  Homer 
is  one  .  .  .  Epicurus  died  likewise,  when  his  life's  light 
had  run  its  course. — Ibid.  1049,  1050,  and  1055. 


PASSAGES   FROM   THE   ORIGINAL  81 

XIII 

Exit  saepe  foras  magnis  ex  aedibus  ille, 
Esse  domi  quern  pertaesum  est. 

Often  he  goes  forth  out  of  his  vast  halls,  who  has 
grown  weary  of  remaining  at  home.  —  Ibid.  1073, 
1074. 

XIV 

Currit  agens  mannos  ad  villam  praecipitanter, 
Auxilium  tectis  quasi  ferre  ardentibus  instans. 

He  hastens  precipitately  to  his  villa  hurrying  on  his 
horses,  as  though  his  house  was  on  fire,  and  he  were 
hastening  to  put  out  the  flames. — Ibid.  1076,  1077. 

xv 
Oscitat  extemplo,  tetigit  quum  limina  villae, 
Aut  abit  in  somnum  gravis  atque  oblivia  quaerit, 
Aut  etiam  properans  urbem  petit  atque  revisit. 
But  he  has  no  sooner  touched  the  threshold  of  his 

villa    than    he    yawns,  or  falls   heavily   to  sleep,   and 

6 


82  LUCRETIUS 

heavily  seeks  forgetfulness ;  or  even  hurrying  back 
again,  betakes  himself  once  more  to  the  city. — Book 
iii.  1078-1080. 

XVI 

Hoc  se  quisque  modo  fugit ;  at  quern  scilicet,  ut  fit, 
Effugere  haud  potis  est,  ingratis  haeret,  et  odit 
Propterea,  morbi  quia  causam  non  tenet  aeger. 

In  this  way  each  man  flees  from  himself;  but  this 
self,  whom,  as  it  happens,  he  cannot  escape  from,  still 
clings  to  him,  and  he  hates  it ;  for  he,  the  sick  man, 
does  not  know  the  cause  of  his  disease. — Ibid.  1081-1083. 

XVII 

Quam  bene  si  videat,  iam  rebus  quisque  relictis 
Naturam  primum  studeat  cognoscere  rerum, 
Temporis  aeterni  quoniam,  non  unius  horae, 
Ambigitur  status,  in  quo  sit  mortalibus  omnis 
Aetas,  post  mortem  quae  restat  cunque  manendo. 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE   ORIGINAL  83 

Which  cause  if  everybody  could  understand,  each, 
in  the  first  place,  all  other  pursuits  being  left,  would 
study  to  learn  the  nature  of  things  ;  since  what  is  at 
issue  is  the  state  not  of  one  hour,  but  of  that  eternity  in 
which  the  whole  age  of  mortals — whatsoever  may  remain 
of  it — after  death  must  continue. — Ibid.  108 4- 1088. 

xx 

Tanquam  in  morte  mali  cum  primis  hoc  sit  eorum, 
Quod  sitis  exurat  miseros  atque  arida  torreat, 
Aut  aliae  cuius  desiderium  insideat  rei. 

As  if  at  their  death  this  would  be  their  chief  evil, 
that  parching  thirst  should  burn  and  dry  them  up  in 
their  wretchedness,  or  the  vain  longing  for  some  other 
thing  settle  on  them. — Ibid.  939-941. 


VII 


III  AND  IV 

/^\UARE  religio  pedibus  subiecta  vicissim 
^^  Obteritur,  nos  exaequat  victoria  coelo. 

By  means  of  whose  science  religion  in  its  turn  lies 
bruised  under  our  feet,  and  his  victory  makes  us  equal 
with  heaven. — Book  i.  78,  79. 

v 

Scire  licet  nobis  nihil  esse  in  morte  timendum 
Nee  miserum  fieri  qui  non  est  posse  neque  hilum 
Differre  an  ullo  fuerit  iam  tempore  natus, 
Mortalem  vitam  mors  quum  immortalis  ademit. 

We  may  be  assured  that  in  death  there  is  nothing  to 
be  dreaded  by  us ;  that  he  who  does  not  exist  cannot  be 


PASSAGES   FROM   THE   ORIGINAL  85 

made  miserable  ;  and  that  it  is  nothing  to  a  man  that 
he  was  ever  born  at  all,  when  once  immortal  death  has 
taken  away  mortal  life. — Book  iii.  879-882. 


IX 

Nee  quisquam  in  barathrum  nee  Tartara  deditur  atra. 

Nor  is  any  one  ever  given  to  the  pit,  or  the  night  of 
Tartarus. — Ibid.  979. 


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